


The Ghost of You

by SherlockWolf



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Noctis is a ghost, Reunions, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Noctis awakens one year after the crystal consumes him. Eos is cast in Darkness. He finds all his friends, learns of the changes in their lives, and heals the rift that formed after his disappearance. The twist? He's a ghost. Mostly.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	1. Haven

Afterlife began with the Oracle. Lost to the world beyond, the regally-clad King slept at her side in an endless bed of sylleblossoms. Years passed, yet Lunafreya did not wake him. Time was of no consequence in that peaceful field. It did not matter when he awoke—no sun shone through the grey mist to give the hour.

Knelt beside him in her white dress, she watched Noctis dream. Whenever he smiled, she smiled. Whenever he cried, she cried. Whenever he laughed, she laughed. Lunafreya witnessed the emotions she had never had the chance to. She lived those emotions with him, as though they were for her. They were not, she knew. Remnants of memories. And yet, her hopeful heart let her have her fun while it lasted.

As all things do, however, Noctis’ sleep came to an end. Arms stretched out above his head, fingers curled in dewdrop-damp flowers. Azure eyes blinked open, finding powder blues gazing down.

Noctis sat up too quickly, wavering enough that he had to place his right hand behind himself lest he fall right back down. He drew the opposite knee to his chest and leaned forward, squinting as though trying to determine if she were an illusion. Lunafreya smiled, amused.

“Luna?” He whispered, awed in both voice and expression.

“Hello, Noctis. Sleep well?” She placed a hand over his own in the flowers.

Noctis looked down at their hands. Then, he readjusted so he was sitting cross-legged, and took her hand properly in both of his. The Ring scraped against her skin, hard metal against soft flesh. Though it would never host Light again, Lunafreya wondered if Noctis would keep It to remember his father.

“Was I sleeping?” He asked in the full timber of his elder voice.

Lunafreya had not heard Noctis’ cadence in the years between childhood and now. Though his age and wisdom shone admirably, his sorrow was clear. She wondered what the happy, younger man had sounded like.

“That is how I saw it. What were you really doing?”

When Noctis smiled, it did not reach his eyes. “I was with my friends.”

“How are they?” Lunafreya asked.

Though she had never met Noctis’ friends, she knew of them from his journal entries. Brilliant Ignis, the Nurturer. Stoic Gladio, the Protector. Darling Prompto, the Lover. How desperately she wished to know them herself, in both life and death.

“They were…many things,” tears gathered in Noctis’ eyes, “Leaders, each of them. They,”

A tear slipped free. Lunafreya cupped the side of his face, thumb poised over cheekbone to catch another.

“They made me proud.” Noctis’ breath shuddered as he spoke.

Lunafreya felt for him. He would miss so much, being here with her rather than living as he—as they both—should. The pair leaned their foreheads together, mourning lost time and left behind friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weekly updates: Sunday afternoons! All but the last chapter is written at this point, so hopefully I'll stay on track o.o
> 
> Thanks for reading and if there are any grammatical/spelling errors please let me know!
> 
> <3 sherlockwolf


	2. Lestallum

Boxing-ring ropes weren’t the most comfortable place to sit, but they provided the perfect view. No one would be able to contest Noctis choosing the ropes as his seat, either. No one could see him.

Living as a ghost was taking some serious adjustment. Not only was he invisible, his bodily functions had stopped. The lack of a heartbeat was eerily noticeable. Worse, food just went into his mouth and _literally_ fell right through him. Anything that phased through him left an uncomfortable feeling in their wake, much like the Royal Arms when Noctis had been collecting them and they’d rammed their ghostly selves into his chest. Thankfully, he could still interact with inanimate objects when he wanted to, didn’t sink through floors, and still had his usual clothes. But missing out on delicious tastes was torturous. Almost as much as being alone in a city full of people. Almost.

Noctis had returned to Eos only a few days ago, finding himself in Lestallum. Eternal Night had already settled over the land. Noctis discovered that the people of Lucis, first surviving the destruction of Insomnia and then the rise of daemons, had congregated in that last city clinging to artificial light. Two of those people included Gladio and Ignis.

On the first day, Noctis had tried his hardest to get someone to tell him where his friends were. But no matter if he’d shouted or grabbed shoulders—which his hand sunk straight through, decidedly freaking him out—every person had acted as if he weren’t there. Not understanding what was happening, he’d become frustrated and had warped to the roof of a nearby building to escape the crowd.

Since he didn’t have the typical physical appearance associated with ghosts, like blue colors and a see-through body, it had taken him the first two days to realize what he was. He’d spent most of those two days wandering rooftops, still searching for his friends.

A few days later—mere hours ago, now—it was upon that same roof, wallowing in grief and confusion, that Noctis had spotted Gladio walking by. He’d had a gym bag slung over his tank-top covered shoulder, gym shorts underneath. Gladio always was one to show off as much muscle as he could.

Even Noctis’ warp was invisible, apparently, since Gladio had given no acknowledgement when Noctis had landed beside him. Shouting any number of things as Gladio had lead him through the city made no difference.

The idea that Gladio was furious at him, though for what Noctis couldn’t fathom, scared the King. What had he done to deserve the silent treatment? It hadn’t been his fault the Crystal ate him, though he wondered if his friends saw it differently. Perhaps they thought Noctis had abandoned them? Something hard and cold had settled in his stomach as he’d followed Gladio.

It was still there, as he sat inside the mildly crowded boxing studio Gladio had gone into. The Shield was in the middle of a match, his opponent impressively hanging on by threads of willpower. If not for rules and gloves, Noctis was sure Gladio would’ve broken the smaller man’s nose in the first three hits. Finally, the man gave up, collapsing in an exhausted heap in the corner opposite Noctis.

Some sort of tournament must have been going on, as another challenger took to the mat. Noctis watched about five or so rounds before becoming bored of watching Gladio beat up strangers. Noctis hopped off the rope, amused as it bounced from being freed of his weight. It was a wonder someone hadn’t noticed the bend while he’d sat there. He wandered to the trophy cases that lined the walls of the studio and entertained himself with reading plaques.

As fun as it was watching Gladio spar, Noctis was thankful when the tournament ended and they left the musty studio. Once again, he followed Gladio through Lestallum. They stopped by the market, where Gladio collected some ingredients into a shopping bag he produced from his gym bag. The sight and smell of foods Noctis could no longer enjoy made the thing in his stomach roil. If only he had a real stomach, he’d have liked to give it something else to do than upset him.

Leaving the market, Gladio walked down a few more pathways before ducking into a smaller alleyway. He unlocked an unlabeled green door and slipped inside, Noctis right behind. The door phased through Noctis as Gladio closed it and he shivered at the sensation—that was something he was sure he’d never get used to.

“Yo, Ig! I’m back.” Gladio called into what Noctis discovered was an apartment. He watched Gladio toe off his shoes in the small, oak-colored hallway they stood in. Then, they went a bit further down and to the right, where the hallway opened into a kitchen. Directly across from Noctis was a second green door and to his right, across from the kitchen appliances, was a third. In the center of the small room was a wooden dining table with two chairs.

Ignis appeared from the second door, revealing a toilet behind him. A bathroom, then. Noctis guessed the third door led to the bedroom. Ignis didn’t have any glasses on, and for the first time Noctis saw the full extent of his Advisor’s injury. The scars were pink, far less red from the last time Noctis had seen him. Though he’d found a date on a newspaper earlier, this was the first time it sunk in that so much time had passed.

Noctis had been gone—no, he may as well accept it. He’d _died_ little over a year ago.

“Welcome home. How was the match?” Ignis asked, one hand wrapping around the back of the nearest chair.

Gladio dropped the bag of groceries on the table, “Won the whole thing! Wish you could’a seen it.”

“I as well,” Ignis agreed amiably, an amused smile on his lips.

“Got the stuff you asked for,” Gladio lifted Ignis’ free hand and set it on top of the bag, “Veenon had a great sale goin’.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll get started right away.”

Impressed with every passing minute, Noctis stood and watched Ignis navigate the kitchen with ease as he made a meal for himself and Gladio. Gladio disappeared into the bathroom while Ignis worked. The sound of running water told Noctis he was taking a shower.

However doubtful it would work, Noctis decided he may as well try to get Ignis’ attention. He moved to stand beside his Advisor who was stirring some vegetables in a pan over the small stove. Noctis tried placing a hand on Ignis’ shoulder, to no avail. His hand went right through. Noctis tried speaking, simply saying Ignis’ name. Nothing.

Frustrated, Noctis changed tactics. Time for some horror-movie spooky-shit.

Picking up a small measuring spoon Ignis had pulled out among other tools, Noctis tried bopping Ignis’ arm with it. Ignis’ head turned toward him. There was a moment of silence as Ignis listened to his surroundings. Then he spoke tersely, suspicion clear,

“Gladio?”

Knowing Ignis couldn’t hear his reply, Noctis simply bopped him with the spoon again.

“Cease.” Ignis snapped.

Noctis did it again. Twice. Ignis held his hand out after.

“Give me the spoon, Gladio.”

Noctis was impressed Ignis knew it was a spoon. The fact that Ignis was doing _fine,_ completely functional with the wound Noctis still blamed himself for, made the King’s dead heart swell with happiness. He set the spoon in Ignis’ hand.

“Talcott, if that’s you…” Ignis grumbled as he set the spoon back on the counter.

Noctis chuckled, glad to hear Talcott was alright. Then it struck him. He’d been so worried about his closest friends he’d hardly spared a thought toward others who had cared for or helped him. Cindy, how was she? And Iris? Aranea? Dave? Holly? Takka? If only he could ask.

Gladio returned from the shower, then, plopping down in a chair with his towel-dried hair dangling over his naked shoulders. The only thing he wore was boxers.

“Gladio, are you and I the only ones in the room?” Ignis asked after drenching the vegetables in a sauce.

“Yeah, why?”

Ignis turned his head toward Noctis again, expression pensive. For a moment Noctis wondered if Ignis had discovered him. But then, Ignis merely shrugged.

“Heard a strange noise. Must have been the neighbors.”

Disappointment washed heavy over Noctis. He chose the corner between the hallway wall and that which held the bed room door, and sat there. He watched his friends set the table and eat while he once again wallowed in misery.

The pair at the table made idle conversation while they ate, until Gladio asked a question which caught Noctis’ full attention.

“Hey, you hear anything from the kid lately?” Gladio gave Ignis a hopeful glance.

Was he talking about Talcott?

“I haven’t.” Ignis shook his head, expression downcast, “Last I heard, two weeks ago he was on a hunt with some of Dave’s friends near the Malmalam Thicket.”

That didn’t make sense. Talcott would be eleven, not old enough for hunting. Perhaps Iris? But Iris didn’t use “he” pronouns. Unless that had changed. A lot could change in a year, Noctis knew first hand.

“He’s gotten worse about checking in.” Gladio frowned, stirring his food in circles around his plate with his fork.

“He doesn’t _have_ to,” despite his words, Ignis sounded as disappointed as Gladio.

“No,” Gladio agreed, but by the set of his shoulders he was distinctly unhappy about it, “but I worry about him. Feel like he’s gonna do something stupid without us.”

Ignis hummed in agreement, reaching across the table with his left hand and resting it upon Gladio’s right wrist. Gladio stopped swirling his food so their contact could remain.

“I’ve thought the same. But we have to have faith in him. Besides, he has Cindy. She’ll keep a close watch.”

A bolt of realization hit Noctis. They were talking about Prompto. He’d avoided thinking about his best friend for more than a second here or there, afraid that the hurricane of emotions even Prompto’s name brought up would send him to the real afterlife. Or something equally dramatic.

At least he had some kind of confirmation Prompto was still alive. Though, two weeks was a lot of time in a dangerous and uncertain world. Noctis found himself itching to run to Hammerhead. But he needed Ignis and Gladio to know he was there. He’d found them first, so it was only fair. Besides, he knew that once he found Prompto he wasn’t going to leave his side.

Prompto wasn’t brought up again. The conversation moved on to Iris, who Noctis discovered was working with Aranea. The General was still leading recovery and rescue missions across Lucis. Noctis learned of Cid’s whereabouts here in Lestallum, as well as a few others whom they’d met on their extended road trip. Neither Gladio nor Ignis brought up Ardyn, but Noctis was glad for it. He didn’t want to spare that monster a second of thought. 

Eventually his friends went to bed, both disappearing into the single bedroom. Noctis chose not to follow them. Not only for their privacy, but so he could spend the “night” wandering Lestallum. Being a ghost meant he didn’t sleep and, frankly, had too much time on his hands.

Some twenty minutes after leaving the apartment, Noctis found himself by the cliffside that provided ample view of Cauthess. The crater never ceased to awe him. Formed so long ago, yet its impact upon the land would never go away. A permanent change, much like his own predicament. Though, Noctis had not expected death to merely render him a ghost, existing in the same time and space as he had before—more or less.

He had expected paradise, perhaps a field of flowers or beautiful mountains. Luna would be there, and one by one his friends would join them. They would live in a castle in the sky, any luxury they wanted at their fingertips. Ignis would see again, could use any ingredients he wanted, cook anything his heart desired. Gladio would…do something. Noctis smiled to himself as he struggled to figure out what Gladio’s paradise would be. There was no need for war after death, but Gladio’s life revolved around fighting. The boxing tournament earlier attested to that. Well, Noctis supposed, there would be plenty of untrained people in the afterlife. Perhaps Gladio could befriend them all, teach them to fight, and finally get his ass handed to him by a dude twice his size.

Prompto would have the best camera and an art gallery dedicated to his photos. A room for each theme: friends, chocobos, other animals not as important as chocobos, plants, cars, battles. Noctis could see him in his mind’s eye, doting over the placement of each printed canvas. Pointing out which ones were his favourites and which ones Noctis made him hang up. And in the back of the gallery, a room just for the two of them. The King and his King. Ah. No, that was Noctis’ paradise. Prompto’s would probably be with Cindy. He was with her, now, wasn’t he?

That cold, hard something reappeared in Noctis’ stomach. Prompto’s absence weighed like buckets of water on his shoulders. He leaned over his arms, crossed on the railing, and peered into the abyss of the canyon. Noctis stayed there, lost in thought about anything but Prompto, until the sounds of people stirring drew him away.

He took his time walking back to the apartment, admiring the bustle of people adjusted to the Eternal Night. Though it had only been a few days, Noctis was beginning to get used to it. The lack of grey dawn light was still disturbing, however, especially when he heard people greet each other with, “Good morning!”

When he slipped through the green door, Noctis found Ignis and Gladio already awake and eating breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and in the center on a large plate none other than the dessert buns from Tenebrae whose recipe Ignis had been trying to perfect for over a decade. Noctis felt a bit cheated that he wouldn’t be able to taste them ever again. Ignis had been so close, the last time. Surely, a year later, the buns were even better.

Gladio was absorbed in his book, mindlessly spooning eggs into his mouth every page or so. Ignis was eating, expression pensive. A notepad and pen sat to his right on the table, but nothing had been written down. Noctis wondered if Ignis still kept lists, though he imagined Gladio would do the writing.

With Gladio distracted, Noctis leaned over the table and stole a bun from the edge of the plate. Despite previous failed attempts to eat, he was determined to give this one a go. Gladio stirred, but didn’t look up. Ignis, however, seemed to sense the rush of air from Noctis’ movement, or maybe he’d secretly been Spiderman this whole time. His head shot up toward the plate of buns and he spoke urgently,

“Gladio.”

Gladio looked up, first at Ignis and then at the plate. Noctis tried to take a bite of the bun in his hands, and failed. He didn’t drop it, thankfully, but his teeth sank right through it.

“There’s five.”

Before Noctis there had been six. He smirked and ignored his friends in favor of glaring at the buns on the table. Death was so unfair.

“Oh, _shit._ ”

Gladio’s exclamation had Noctis glance over, only to find him looking directly back with his mouth agape. Or, more accurately, looking at the bun in Noctis’ hands.

“What?” Ignis asked, leaning forward over the table, even placing his elbows on it in his excitement.

“It’s floating. In the air.” Gladio informed him.

Ignis’ grin was monumental, “That’s what floating entails.”

Gladio shook his head at Ignis’ joke but still stared at Noctis’ bun. Noctis himself was in a bit of shock. He hadn’t realized people could still see the objects he held. Yesterday, if Ignis had been able to see, then the spoon Noctis had been bothering him with would’ve seemed to have grown a strange aggression toward its owner.

The idea made him giggle, giggles which turned into a full-on fit of hysteria. Noctis buckled over his knees, crouching on the ground with the bun squeezed between his fists as his laughter brought prickling tears. This was all so _frustrating_.

Why had the Crystal taken his life? Why had the Gods given him this wretched fate? Just because of his bloodline? Noctis himself had done nothing wrong in his life. Sure, he’d wanted things he could never have. But everyone _wanted_. And he’d never _asked_ for those forbidden things. His life was decided for him. First by his country and his father, then Niflheim, and now the Gods. Noctis felt completely out of control. He couldn’t have anything. Not even a moment to say a real goodbye to the people who mattered most to him.

“ _It’s not fair!”_

He’d never let fate stop him before, knew that life as a prince held so many more privileges and responsibilities than most others. He’d been ready to face all of them, any of them, to protect the people he loved and the people of his country. But deep down, what Noctis had wanted and still wanted most, was to be _normal_. To be a common citizen, someone who didn’t have to prevent the end of the world. He’d gotten a small taste in high school and it hadn’t been enough. The road trip had helped, sort of. Ignis, Gladio, and Cor breathing down his neck about Kingly responsibilities hadn’t let him forget.

What he wouldn’t give…

Something phased through his head, bringing him back to the present. Noctis looked behind him and saw the pen that had been previously beside Ignis.

“Hey, Princess. We’re talking to you.”

Noctis looked up to find Gladio looking at him. And this time, his gaze was dead on. Though, Noctis knew he had to be guessing. Still, he appreciated the effort. To show he was listening, Noctis picked up the pen in one hand and set the smashed bun back on the table. He remained on his knees, however, too weak with joy from his friends knowing he was there to stand.

“I suspected you yesterday,” Ignis turned toward Noctis, though his unseeing gaze was on the wall behind the King, “Gladio and I talked it over last night, and we played this little trick. I was hoping you would eat them.”

At least Noctis wasn’t the only one disappointed by that.

“The pen’s for you, and the notepad. I can read whatever you write.” Gladio picked up the notepad and held it out, almost shoving it through Noctis’ nose.

Noctis took the notepad, then scribbled immediately. Normally, he’d make some kind of jab at Gladio for calling him “princess” but he was too happy, too excited to care. He handed the notepad back when he’d finished writing every question he could think of.

“ _Missed you guys._ _Been gone for a year—saw a newspaper. Pretty sure I’m dead ‘cause I’m a ghost? No one can see or hear me. Can’t eat anything, but I appreciate the buns. They look perfect. Found you guys ‘cause I saw Gladio boxing,”_ Noctis had shortened that story since he’d already filled the first page, “ _You kicked ass, as per usual. Specs, you would’ve loved it._ ”

Ignis gave an approving hum as Gladio continued reading.

_“I have so many questions. How has adjusting to the dark been? Is Lestallum the only place people live? When did you guys move here? What have you been up to? I heard you guys talking about Iris—glad she’s ok. How is everyone else? What happened to the Crystal? Is it still in Gralea or did it get destroyed? I still have the Ring, but I don’t think I can do anything with it. And I still have my sword, but that’s all. Can you guys use the Armiger or is it gone?”_

There were two questions Noctis hadn’t asked. Where was Prompto? Where was Ardyn? Either question would bring back the cold, hard discomfort in his guts.

“We’ll address them one by one. Noctis can write down anything else that comes up as we go.” Ignis decided.

Noctis learned that the adjustment to Eternal Night was an ongoing process. Countless individuals had lost their lives in the initial collapse of Light and flood of daemons. The majority of people left lived in Lestallum—a fact that shook Noctis to his core. Although he’d thought the city more crowded than he remembered, it wasn’t packed enough to hold as many people as had once lived in Lucis. Thousands had died early on.

Lestallum was a haven because of the power plant which allowed for lights to be run twenty-four hours a day. However, some people either did not want or couldn’t live in the city. For them, a few outposts with their own generators had become home. Hammerhead was the smallest, the largest being the repurposed military base near Hulldagh Pixe. The other outposts were more military bases Noctis and his friends had dismantled during their road trip.

The base in the Kelbass Grasslands focused on farming plants. Though a few species simply hadn’t survived under artificial light, most remained viable and edible. Ignis made sure to comment that carrots were still plentiful. Noctis stuck his tongue out at him.

Gladio took over when it came to himself and Ignis. After Noctis had disappeared, his friends had killed Ardyn. Temporarily, of course, as the bastard was immortal. Then, they had tried moving the Crystal, but not even Gladio could make it budge. They’d decided to return for it later with a bigger crew. That hadn’t happened, though. When Gladio had led a raid on Gralea a month later, the Crystal was gone.

Since then, Gladio had been helping Cor to rebuild the scattered Kingsglaive. With both old and new members, he bragged to Noctis they were over one hundred strong. Though, without the binding laws of traditional society, so Gladio wasn’t sure if there would still be that many when push came to shove.

Ignis had spent his time learning to cook and fight as seamlessly as he had before losing his eyesight. He was even better, according to Gladio. Everyone else still tried to see what they were doing when they fought, which was nearly impossible out of the havens. But Ignis was always relying on other senses, and could detect the location and movement of an enemy with pinpoint accuracy.

Neither Gladio nor Ignis were surprised that Noctis couldn’t use the Ring. The Armiger was lost to them, too. Only the weapons they’d had in-hand when Noctis had disappeared remained. They’d each restocked with weapons of their own, and complained about the hassle of having to carry them.

_Disappeared_. That was how Ignis and Gladio kept referring to his death. Noctis didn’t want to derail the answers to his questions, but at some point he was going to have to correct them. The King wasn’t coming back.

Or, was he? Would his body eventually become corporeal again? Bahamut had said a blood sacrifice was required to return the Light. Noctis figured he’d need real blood to accomplish that. Perhaps, this ghost form was just another step in fulfilling his destiny.

The idea that maybe he _wasn’t_ dead gave him a spark of hope. He’d have to be careful not to fan that fire, though. He might still be a ghost for a _long_ time. Gods only knew how long it would take for the Ring to absorb all the Light of the Crystal.

Ignis explained the decision he and Gladio had made to remain in Lestallum. Due to Gladio’s leadership in Kingsglaive, he needed to be somewhere he could be reached in a moment’s notice, or where he could organize a large group of glaive if a swarm of daemons threatened the area. Lestallum had been the optimal choice. It was also the trading hub for the fallen Lucis. With plentiful food and an overcrowded city, Ignis had quickly organized a full-scale kitchen which kept everyone in Lestallum fed with healthy meals.

Many of the friends they’d made during the road trip were in Lestallum, now. Of most importance, Cor, Cid, Holly, and Talcott all lived there. Talcott was being watched over by Cid, but working at the power plant with Holly. Dino and Vyv were around, still printing newspapers twice monthly, though they no longer included pictures. Takka and Cindy ran Hammerhead, and Dave was still leading hunts.

And then, Prompto. At Hammerhead. With Cindy. This time something far more aching and familiar invaded Noctis’ gut. Jealousy. He wasn’t surprised—he’d always been jealous of the girls Prompto had doted on. At least Noctis knew Cindy, rather than Prompto getting together with a stranger.

Finally, Ardyn. As mentioned, last they’d seen him he’d respawned beside the Crystal after Prompto had loaded his body with bullets. Ardyn had walked away unscathed. No one had heard from him since. Ignis assumed he was holed up in Insomnia, as the city was currently crawling with daemons and MTs. In fact, the very purpose of reassembling the Kingsglaive was to eventually retake the fallen city.

Though Noctis had been playing with the pen and notepad as his friends talked, he hadn’t written any comments. The information about Insomnia, however, inspired him.

_“Tell me how I can help?”_ Gladio read aloud.

Ignis hummed in thought, taking a moment before responding gingerly, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m not sure how many people might take our word for it that you’re you, and not a dangerous ghost.”

“He might be able to do some recon.” Gladio argued, “Once we get closer to Insomnia, he could map out the city for us.”

“ _If_ he’s invisible to daemons.” Ignis pointed out, adding, “Are you, Noct?”

_“Don’t know, haven’t seen one yet.”_

“I would go with you to find out, but the glaive need me.” Gladio spoke with only partial remorse.

Noctis wondered if Gladio had finally found the inner peace he’d been searching for by leading the glaive rather than serving a prince. If so, Noctis was happy for him. Proud, too.

“I am needed here as well. We could send you to Prompto. He’s on the front lines, and you could follow along on a daemon hunt.” Ignis suggested.

“That would kill two birds with one stone. Give us an excuse to call.” Gladio agreed.

“Do you think he’ll believe us?”

“Not at all. But Noct can convince him himself.”

“ _Of course I can. Any chance I could borrow a car?”_

“Ha, course you want to drive.” Gladio laughed at his response.

Noctis always wanted to drive. Ignis never let him. Not even now, as he replied with amusement,

“A self-driving car wouldn’t make it out of the city. There are convoys, however. We can sneak you onto the next one to Hammerhead.”

Gladio excused himself then to get ready for another day of training new recruits. Noctis tried his best to have Gladio read a few questions to Ignis about his kitchen before leaving. Then, Gladio was gone and Noctis no longer had a way to speak with Ignis. Alone with his Advisor, there was so much more Noctis wanted to ask that he didn’t feel comfortable with around Gladio. Most of his questions revolved around Prompto. Noctis resigned himself to the fact that he would have to wait until he saw Prompto to know the answers.

“Would you like to come with me to the kitchen, Noct?” Ignis asked, drawing Noctis from his moment of disappointment.

Noctis tapped Ignis’ arm once with the pen. He watched Ignis get ready, and then followed him out of the apartment and into the winding alleyways of Lestallum.


	3. Convoy

Spending the day with Ignis had been fun. Noctis had been able to help in little, subtle ways. Ignis had taken him to the market to gather ingredients, first. There they’d played a game where Ignis would say the name of the plant or grain he needed, and Noctis would tap once for ‘yes’ or twice for ‘no’ if the shop they were at had it in stock. As they’d returned to the kitchen, Ignis had joked how he wished Noctis would stick around just to help the shopping go by faster. But they both knew Noctis wouldn’t be comfortable until he’d seen Prompto.

In the evening they returned to the apartment. Gladio was still out, so Noctis helped Ignis make dinner. This time, without witnesses, Noctis could properly help. He chopped vegetables while Ignis prepared a batter for pot pies.

Gladio returned by the time the pies were finished. He and Ignis ate at the table while Noctis sat on the floor. They conversed as they had that morning, though about the daily life of Lestallum rather than heavier topics.

As dinner wound down, Noctis opted to clean the dishes for his friends. It was while at the sink, scrubbing plates, that Gladio brought up the convoy.

“Next one leaves five a.m. tomorrow. I was thinking, Ig and I can write Prompto a note so he knows you’re there. You can write him one, too.”

Ignis agreed. After drying his hands on the towel beside the sink, Noctis hurried to the notepad and scribbled his response.

_“Yes, please. Thank you.”_

His friends set about writing their note while Noctis finished cleaning. Gladio wrote on a fresh page of the notepad while Ignis spoke,

“Dear Prompto, we hope this letter finds you in good health. There’s been a surprising development, one that is sure to make you think the both of us have officially lost our marbles. Noctis has returned. Not fully…”

Ignis paused, pondering how to explain. Gladio came up with a simple answer.

“Basically a ghost,” he said, and also wrote.

Ignis snapped his fingers, “That’s it. Now where was I…ah, yes. I know it will be hard to believe, but Noct will show you he is there as he did with us. Keep an eye out for flying spoons, and leave out pen and paper. Last of all, please call us and let us know Noct reached you safely. We’ll worry about him otherwise. Until then, take care.”

Noctis watched Gladio sign his name, then pass the pen and notepad to Ignis who, after some careful alignment from Gladio, signed it, too. Ignis handed the notepad to Noctis, then disappeared into the bedroom. Noctis tucked himself into the corner between the bedroom wall and the hallway wall. While he tried to figure out what to say, Ignis returned with an envelope which Gladio addressed to Prompto.

_Prom, I miss you. I know that when you read this I’ll be right beside you, but right now I’m in Lestallum. So I still miss you._

Noctis felt the warmth of shyness creeping up his neck. He felt silly, writing a letter to Prompto like they were in high school and he was some love-struck teen confessing through a note shoved in a locker. It didn’t help that Gladio was watching him.

“Ten gil says he’s blushing,” Gladio told Ignis with a teasing smile directed at Noctis.

Ignis chuckled while Noctis threw the pen at Gladio. Gladio caught it, of course, and tossed it right back.

“Perhaps we should let him write in peace. We do need to be up early.” Ignis suggested.

“Yeah, alright. Night, Princess.” Gladio gave Noctis a wave.

Ignis bid him goodnight as well, telling him to tuck in the note and seal the envelope when he finished. Then the two of them disappeared into the bedroom. Noctis refocused on the letter. He decided to focus on logistics rather than feelings.

_I think I’m a ghost. Which sucks, ‘cause no one can see or hear me. I can touch stuff, but not people. But I can touch people with stuff. I found that out by tapping Ignis with a spoon. I’ll probably tap you with stuff, too. Hopefully it doesn’t scare you. Thankfully I can still write, which is how I’ve been communicating with Specs and Gladio. And, how I’ll have to talk to you. I know this letter will be a lot, so I’ll save my questions for later. But there’s so much I want to know. I’ve been gone for a year. I’m glad it wasn’t more, but a year is still so much time. Anyway, I’d better stop here before this gets too long. I can’t wait to see you. Love, Noct._

That would have to do for now, or Noctis was going to end up writing out an embarrassingly large amount of emotions. Emotions that were rising in his chest the more reality sank in. He was going to see _Prompto_. Tomorrow!

Once the envelope was secure, Noctis spent a few hours wandering Lestallum once again. He didn’t stay out long, however, wary of missing the convoy. He spent a few more hours in the apartment, doodling video game characters on the notepad. Eventually, he wrote a note to Ignis and Gladio, thanking them for accepting his weird state of existence and promising he’d come back with Prompto to visit.

Finally, Ignis and Gladio awoke around four a.m. Noctis anxiously waited by the door while his friends got their shoes on, and then the three of them walked through the quiet streets of Lestallum. The convoy was waiting for them in the parking lot at the overlook. It was a lot smaller than Noctis had expected. There were only two trucks, one’s bed packed with wooden crates of food, the other’s with medical and necessary supplies. Each truck held two people, one to drive and one as backup in case a daemon attack went horribly wrong.

Noctis watched Ignis hand over the envelope to one of the drivers, with strict instructions that it be delivered to Prompto Argentum or Cindy Aurum only. Then, it was time to go. Deciding he’d rather not phase through someone in an attempt to sit in a cab, Noctis opted to sit on the crates. There wasn’t opportunity to say goodbye to his friends, but Noctis had faith they would find and read the note he’d left on their table. He hopped into the tuck through the canvas cover, and settled on some flour sacks instead. He rested his eyes, wishing he could nap. The drive would be a boring couple of hours.


	4. Hammerhead

Aside from the perpetual darkness and a few more hunters than usual, Noctis found that exterior of Hammerhead hadn’t changed much. The garage and convenience store were still there, Cindy’s semi parked between. The caravan beside the diner was joined by four others and the weapon’s truck had doubled in size. The biggest difference was the massive chain-link fence that bordered the outpost. To enter, the leading truck of the convoy had honked in a pattern, and an electronic gate over the driveway slid back.

Noctis hopped out as soon as the truck he was in stopped. After getting a look around, he caught sight of blonde hair bobbing toward the convoy in his peripheral. He turned, heart racing with excitement, only for his stomach to tie itself in knots as he saw the person heading toward them from the closed garage. Just Cindy. Not that it wasn’t great to see her ever-joyful smile, but she wasn’t the one Noctis was here for.

“Howdy, y’all!” Cindy greeted the convoy.

“Hi darling!” The woman who had been driving Noctis’ truck swept Cindy into a tight hug, “How’s everything over here?”

“We’re doin’ just fine. Had a little scare a couple days ago, though. One a’ those giants popped up just there on the road,” Cindy pointed toward the gate they’d just driven passed, “Hunters cleared it up, thankfully. Wouldn’t know what I’d do without ‘em.”

“Hear hear,” one of the male passengers agreed, his accent distinctly Tenebraen.

A few hunters came over from the diner, then, and began unloading the trucks. Each driver had a clipboard with long itemized lists, and were checking things off as they were unloaded. Noctis wished he could help without making a scene. Instead, he sat on the hood of the leading truck and watched. He had to make sure the letter made its way into Cindy’s hands, since Prompto wasn’t here to receive it himself.

Finally, when everything designated for Hammerhead was unloaded and accounted for, the passenger Ignis had handed the letter to approached Cindy with it.

“Here, miss. This is for you from Mr. Scientia.”

Cindy took the letter, read the name on the front, and murmured something to herself with a frown.

“Thank ya kindly.” She said to the messenger with a salute.

Noctis waited impatiently as Cindy directed the hunters to disperse the stuff. He had to hop off the hood when the driver started the engine, opting to stand beside Cindy as she waved the convoy off to their next stop. Then, with everyone busy, she returned to her garage. Noctis followed, curious what she would do with the letter. He figured he may as well stick with her, anyway, since she’d be most likely to know Prompto’s whereabouts.

Inside the cluttered garage office, Cindy placed the letter on her computer keyboard, then began going through one of her many filing cabinets. Noctis listened to her talk to herself about what she was looking for—some kind of blueprints. She cheered when she found them, then hurried out of the office into the garage. Noctis followed her, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the sheeted vehicle tucked on the opposite side of the office.

No. Way.

Noctis ran ahead of Cindy, then, eager to get his hands on the car. He managed to stop himself from pulling the sheet off, but only barely. He rested his hands on the hood, feeling the familiar curve. His heart ached. The Regalia was here.

Cindy caught up, then, and pulled the sheet away. She folded it up and placed it on a plastic chair nearby. Then she spread out the blueprints on the hood.

While she worked, Noctis admired his father’s car. The outside was completely restored from the last time he’d seen it, smashed and torn up. Cindy had worked her magic on the metal. Even the paint job was flawless, the royal purple gleaming in the artificial lights of the garage. Thankfully the interior hadn’t been damaged, so when Noctis peaked at it, the pearl leather looked as crisp as ever.

Cindy moved toward something big and bulky suspended on a lift beside the car. She pulled the sheet off the thing, which Noctis recognized as an engine. Probably the Regalia’s, based on how mangled it was.

The majority of the day passed by with Noctis watching Cindy work on the engine. Noctis had never seen a mechanic work before, and found himself fascinated by the process. By the time an interruption arrived, Cindy had made some decent progress toward taking apart the machinery. Noctis guessed this was her first day working on it. The body had probably taken her all the months since the Regalia had been rescued from Gralea.

“Hey, don’t you know it’s dinnertime?”

Prompto’s voice caught both Noctis’ and Cindy’s attention. They looked over toward the office to find him running into the garage, hair a mess and skin covered in blood and daemon goo. Cindy returned to working on the engine while Noctis froze, staring at his best friend. Even though his usual red tank and capri pants were grimy, Prompto was still the most beautiful man Noctis had ever seen. He felt the hot prick of tears in his eyes—he was so _happy_ that Prompto was _okay_.

“No way I’m eating with ya ‘til ya shower.” She told Prompto with a small smile.

Prompto gave himself a once-over, then smiled sheepishly at her. Noctis noticed the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His heart twisted for his friend—what had taken the laughter from his violet eyes? Noctis had a few theories, but he didn’t want any of them to be true.

“Yeah, mission got a bit messy this morning. You should see Dave.”

“Hope _he’s_ in the shower.” Cindy shot back.

“He is. Just thought I’d come see what you were up to.” Prompto explained innocently, stepping closer to the engine to get a better look at it.

“Same old same old. Finally startin’ on the engine.”

“Nice! What do you think, another year and she’ll be running?”

“Just about.” Cindy agreed.

“Iggy and Gladio will be so excited.” Prompto murmured, half to himself.

Knowing his friends had rescued his father’s car made Noctis’ heart swell with affection.

“Oh, speakin’ of yer friends,” Cindy paused to point at the office, “There’s a note for ya on my keyboard. Do ‘em a favor and actually read it this time?”

Cindy gave Prompto a knowing look, and despite a slight nod, he looked at his shoes and rubbed at the back of his neck. Noctis began to worry—what was he going to do if Prompto _didn’t_ read the letters? He hadn’t bothered to come up with a plan b. He’d figured Prompto would read something from their friends. Why wouldn’t he?

“Yer makin’ them worry, ya know.” Cindy coaxed Prompto.

He gave a big sigh, hand dropping back down by his side.

“I don’t mean to.” The way Prompto said it, it sounded like he didn’t believe her.

Cindy didn’t seem to notice, though, as she said, “Let’s give ‘em a call t’night, ‘kay?”

“’Kay.” Prompto agreed, then headed back to the office while calling over his shoulder, “Don’t forget dinner!”

“In a half-hour!” Cindy gave in.

Noctis hurried after Prompto. In the office Prompto picked up the letter, reading his name before turning it over and looking at the seal.

“Wish they’d just give up.” Prompto mumbled.

Anger flared in Noctis. Why was Prompto dismissing his friends? Ignis and Gladio still cared about him, worried about him, yet here he was wanting to ignore them when they didn’t even know definitively if he was alive. What had gotten into him?

Prompto lead Noctis to the caravan the four friends had used during the road trip. Once inside, Prompto dropped the letter on the folded-out dining table then disappeared into the bathroom. The shower turned on as Noctis waited outside, taking in Prompto’s decorations. Printed pictures clothes-pinned to strings spanned every wall. Many were from the road trip, but just as many were from high school. Unable to come up with any other explanation, Noctis guessed Prompto must have brought all of his SD cards with him on the trip. No way Prompto would’ve gone back to Insomnia to recover them. Right?

Just as in Noctis’ imaginary heaven, Prompto had organized the pictures into themes. Over the kitchen were pictures featuring Ignis. Around the bathroom door were ones with Gladio. In the living and dining area were pictures of all four of them. And around the bed…all Noctis. Some by himself, some with Prompto. Since the walls around the lifted bed were shorter, Prompto had placed more on the ceiling with tape. Noctis felt both honored and shy at the idea of Prompto falling asleep while staring at pictures of himself.

Noctis was lying on the bed looking up at a selfie of himself and Prompto on the balcony of his apartment in Insomnia when Prompto returned from the bathroom. He sat up to find Prompto only had a towel secured around his waist, providing Noctis with ample view of heat-pink, clean, freckled skin. Skin marred with countless white scars from two years of battles. Potions could only do so much.

Having seen Prompto naked with a towel plenty of times before, Noctis wouldn’t have thought twice. But, something was different. Prompto didn’t have a band over his wrist. Noctis wondered if he’d left it in the bathroom with his clothes—Prompto had been wearing a wristband while talking with Cindy.

Without the band, Noctis got his first sight of the tattoo which had caused Prompto so much grief upon their reunion in Gralea. It was a large barcode. A strange thing for someone to have just willy-nilly, and Noctis knew he would’ve asked about it if Prompto hadn’t hidden it. But Prompto had valid reason to hide it. Snooping adults would’ve stopped them from becoming friends. And Noctis wouldn’t sacrifice his friendship with Prompto for anything. Not even a normal life.

Prompto came over to the bed, opening the drawers below it and digging out some fresh clothes. He ducked back into the bathroom. Noctis silently thanked the gods. While he absolutely wanted to see Prompto’s bare ass, he also wanted to have permission.

Noctis hopped off the bed, then pulled open one of the drawers Prompto had been sifting through. Might as well start doing ghosty things now. When Prompto came back out, however, he didn’t notice the open drawer. Instead, he pulled on his shoes and left the caravan—a wrist band now in place. As Noctis followed him to the diner, he realized getting Prompto to notice his presence was going to be an uphill battle. 

The inside of Takka’s diner had changed drastically since Noctis had last seen it. The tables had either been moved aside or repurposed for storage. Crates of food and supplies filled most of the floor space, many of which Noctis recognized from the convoy. Only the bar area itself was mostly the same. Plush-seat barstools lined the counter, most occupied already. Takka was serving meals and chatting while a young man bustled back and forth through the kitchen door with more plates.

Prompto caught sight of Cindy seated at the far end of the bar left of the entryway, and hurried over. He took the empty barstool beside her and struck up conversation. Noctis hovered for a moment. He didn’t want to just stand behind them and eavesdrop, that felt awkward. A glance around for somewhere close to sit revealed tall stacks of crates. There was one stack only about three high that he could reasonably sit on, so he did.

“’Nuf about the car,” Noctis heard Cindy say once he was settled, “how was the huntin’ with Dave?”

Prompto launched into a tale of a battle against a nagarani near Costlemark Tower. Having fought many of those, Noctis sympathized when Prompto lamented about being turned into frogs but they’d mistakenly only brought one Maiden’s Kiss. The same scenario had happened plenty of times during the road trip. One of Noctis’ favourite moments, and one Gladio had blamed him for, was when Ignis had had to carry around Gladio for ten minutes past the end of the battle. He’d never heard such angry frog noises before or since.

When Prompto had finished his tale and their meals were already halfway eaten, Cindy said,

“I know Dave’s takin’ a break for a few days, but I got a call from Wiz yesterday that there’s some goblins and imps in his area he needs dealin’ with. Told him ya might be up fer it.”

“Sure thing,” Prompto agreed easily, “sounds easy.”

Even though Noctis didn’t like the idea of Prompto going on any sort of hunt alone, he could at least take the opportunity to test out his sword and see if he could fight daemons. He hoped it worked. If Prompto got into a sticky situation, Noctis would hate to be helpless.

Cindy and Prompto chatted about other hunts or gossip they’d heard from other outposts long past finishing their meals. Noctis remained on his perch, not paying much attention to their words but enjoying the sound of his best friend’s voice. He felt at peace, something that had been foreign to him since the day his dad died. Though Eos was far from fixed, just knowing Prompto was okay made Noctis feel okay.

Eventually, Cindy reminded Prompto that he’d promised to call Ignis and Gladio. He fumbled through some kind of excuse of being tired, but she refused to hear it. Cindy lead him to the garage office by the hand so he couldn’t escape. Inside, she closed the door while Prompto sat in the desk chair and Noctis leaned against the filing cabinet. On the desk beside the computer was a large, boxy machine buried under pieces of paper and envelopes which Cindy plopped onto the keyboard. She adjusted two microphones attached to the box, directing one at Prompto and one at herself. Then, she tapped a code into the number pad on the front. Static filled the room, along with the old monotone ring of a telephone. After a minute there was a click, and then Gladio’s voice came over. It was then that Noctis realized the machine was a radio of some kind.

“Hello?”

“Hey yerself,” Cindy replied cheerfully, “I got Prompto here and thought we’d call and say hi.”

Gladio’s voice came again, distant as though talking away from the mouthpiece. He announced that Prompto was calling. There was some shuffling, then Ignis joined the call, asking,

“How are you both?”

“Mighty fine. Yer boy took out a big monster yesterday.”

“Congrats, blondie.”

“Well done.”

Prompto spoke for the first time and though his voice was bashful, his expression was glum. Noctis confused frustration from earlier returned. He hated that there was a rift between his friends.

“Nah, it wasn’t a big deal. Dave and the others did most of the work.”

“A victory is a victory.” Ignis countered while Gladio just hummed.

Prompto didn’t say anything until Cindy nudged his foot with hers.

“Yeah, well. How’re you guys?” Prompto asked, this time with genuine curiosity.

“Same old, same old. Gladio won a boxing tornament the other evening.” Ignis informed him.

“Now _that’s_ cool.” Prompto gave the radio some finger guns and the hint of a real smile.

Noctis could almost hear Gladio shrug as he said, “Gotta show the new Kingsglaive who’s boss.”

Prompto snorted in amusement while Cindy smiled, probably as happy as Noctis was to see Prompto’s true personality finally shine through his hang-ups.

“Miss Cindy, I hate to be rude but could we have a moment alone with Prompto?” Ignis asked.

“Course ya can.” Cindy said into her mic, then stepped back and gave one of Prompto’s shoulders a squeeze, “Be in the garage if ya need me.”

She gave him a little wave before slipping out of the office. Prompto crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at the radio.

“What’s up?” He asked with distinct suspicion.

“Did you read the letter we sent you?” Ignis asked, not one for beating around the bush.

Prompto chewed the inside of his cheek a moment before responding, “Not yet. Just got back.”

Ignis sighed, and Gladio murmured something along the lines of, “no surprise”.

“Normally I wouldn’t insist, but this one is important, Prompto. Please read it when you have time.”

“Okay.”

Noctis winced at the insincerity in his voice. Then, Gladio spoke up, surprising everyone when he said,

“Noct, could you tap on the mic three times? Just so we know you made it.”

Not having expected to be a part of the conversation, it took Noctis a moment to realize what Gladio meant. In that same moment Prompto snapped, face contorting with anguish in a way Noctis had scarcely seen on him,

“What did you just say?”

“Just read the letter.” Was Gladio’s smarting retort.

Noctis strode over to Cindy’s left on mic, and tapped it three times. When he entered Prompto’s space, he noticed his friend automatically adjust his posture, leaning away a bit as he would if Noctis were actually there. But, Prompto made no indication of consciously noticing him. Weird. He definitely didn’t hear Noctis’ tapping, the audio only coming out on Ignis and Gladio’s end.

“Good luck with blondie, Princess.” Gladio said, words harsh despite his obvious relief.

There was some shuffling on the other side while Prompto murmured expletives, then Ignis said, “Don’t mind him. We’re both glad you made it safely. Give us a call when you read the letter, alright?”

Noctis tapped the mic once for yes, and Prompto glared at the radio, “Right.”

Before Ignis could say anything else, Prompto flipped off the power. He sat with his hand on it for a long moment, his expression melting from fury to hurt. Then, without a word Prompto replaced Cindy’s papers on top of the radio and left the office.

Noctis hurried after, following Prompto’s brisk pace to his caravan. Once inside, Prompto snatched up the letter from his table and nearly ripped it in half trying to open it too quickly. Noctis took up his position on the bed again and waited for Prompto to finish reading. He hadn’t read much before he suddenly dropped the letter, hands coming up over his face as he sat heavily on the bench opposite the table.

“What kind of sick joke…” He rasped.

“Prom…” Noctis knew it was pointless to speak, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t know what about the letter had triggered this reaction, since it didn’t seem like Prompto had read long enough to read Noctis’ part. Noctis slid off the bed to sit beside his friend, knowing he couldn’t offer any comfort but wanting to be as close as possible. Just like before, Prompto’s body shifted away a little in response to Noctis’. Prompto sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his hands before reaching for the letter and picking it up again. He didn’t continue reading, though, instead folding it up and clenching it in his fist. Then, he stood and set it on the table before going into the bathroom. This time he left the door open as he shed his layers and brushed his teeth.

Lost in thought, Noctis stared at the pictures of the three of his friends and himself. The cold, hard feeling settled in his stomach once again. This time he knew what is was—sorrow, remorse, longing. Something had gone horribly wrong between his friends in the past year. That something, he realized, had been the loss of the very thing that had brought them together—himself. The world may have still fallen to darkness, but if the Crystal hadn’t consumed him, Noctis could’ve kept his friends together. Perhaps not physically, since they all had different dreams to chase, but at least their bond would have remained strong. He hated that the brotherhood which had developed between the four of them, once unbreakable, had shattered so easily after unrelenting hardship and loss. They shouldn’t be like this. They should still be smiling, like in the pictures.

Returning from the bathroom clad in boxers, wrist band gone, Prompto distracted Noctis from his misery. He went around the camper pulling blinds down and turning off lights, then made to hop onto the bed. He paused, though, to inspect the drawer Noctis had opened hours ago. Prompto closed it, then waited for a few seconds as though expecting something to happen. Noctis didn’t feel like messing with him tonight, lacking the energy for more draining conversations. He did, however, jump on the bed and lay off to the right side which he knew from experience Prompto didn’t sleep on.

For a few long minutes, Noctis watched Prompto get comfortable in bed. He started on his stomach, face mashed into the pillows, but then turned on his left facing Noctis, before laying on his back with a sigh. He looked up at the pictures on the ceiling, eyes watering.

“What do you think?” Prompto whispered to the pictures, “Are they making fun of me? I know they think you’ll come back,” he rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead and grimaced, “but this is a little too far, you know? Pretending you’re a ghost…I haven’t even told them…” Prompto let out a heavy sigh, leaving Noctis in the dark as to what he was talking about.

Then he smiled humorlessly, “Pretty impressive, though, copying your handwriting like that. I always wondered if they ever did some of your homework for you. Now I know.”

Prompto folded his arms across his chest, tugging his blanket close. His head fell to the side, away from Noctis.

“Miss you, too, bud.” He whispered.

Despite himself, Noctis felt elated that Prompto had read at least a tiny bit of his own letter. As his friend fell asleep, Noctis began thinking of unique ways he could get Prompto to believe he was there. He was definitely going to need a pen.


	5. Slough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! 'Twas on vacation and forgot to schedule it like a functional human.

Since the hunt would only take a day, they’d taken Cindy’s truck. Cindy had loaded the trailer with tools, intending to continue on to Causcherry Plains for a visit and to see if they needed any quick repairs. She planned to pick up Prompto the next morning. Wiz’s chocobo post had a caravan, so Prompto would stay there

The chocobo post was about ten minutes away when Cindy asked about the letter. Prompto admitted he’d read it, but when she asked what it was about he’d lied, saying they’d just written to check up on him. Noctis doubted Cindy bought it, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she told Prompto he should call his friends more. To Noctis it seemed like this was a conversation they had often.

When they arrived at the post, Noctis and Prompto hopped out of the truck with a quick goodbye from Cindy. Then, they were greeted by an ever-worried Wiz sitting at one of the plastic picnic tables. Unlike Hammerhead, the post hadn’t changed at all besides its own chain link fence and massive lights attached to trees at all four corners.

“Thank goodness you’re here. Just last night those rotten daemons were around the corrals. Without those lights, my birds would be goners.”

“Happy to help.” Prompto said with a salute, “Where’d they go?”

“They headed up toward the racetrack, might be around the Slough by now. Don’t get too many daemons in these parts on account of the Catoblepas, so you should find them easy enough.”

“Awesome. Hey, any chance I could borrow Riku? Slough’s kinda far.” Prompto asked of his favourite chocobo.

“Course you can. Make sure you take Sora, too, they hate being separated.”

Sora had been Noctis’ chocobo of choice. He could tell by Prompto’s soft smile that he was as happy as Noctis to hear their birds were inseparable. They hurried over to the corral where they found Wiz’s flock. Sora and Riku had their heads in a trough, but at Prompto’s whistle their heads shot up. They spotted him instantly, and raced over with excited _kweh_ s.

When they met their riders at the gate, however, only Riku greeted Prompto. Sora gave all his attention to Noctis, performing the usual chocobo-hello of bumping the top of his beak against Noctis’ forehead and making happy bubbling sounds. Not one to deny his chocobo anything, Noctis reached up to pet Sora’s neck—and was elated to find that he could. He glanced at Prompto, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the utter bafflement on his friend’s face. Riku squawked at Prompto, annoyed he wasn’t receiving the same attention as Sora. Prompto absently petted Riku, still watching Sora react to Noctis scratching the bird’s weak spot under his crown feathers. Sora shook his head once he had enough and let out a satisfied _kweh_.

“Missed you, too.” Noctis smirked at the silly bird.

“I think I’m going insane.” Prompto murmured with genuine distress before abandoning Riku to open the gate.

Riku, ever one for dramatics, stepped over to Noctis with a huff and butted his beak against the side of Noctis’ head. Grinning to himself, Noctis gave Riku some neck pets until Prompto came back. He took one look at both birds being pet, as far as he could tell, by empty air and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Gotta be something else.” He grumbled.

Then he hopped up on Riku’s saddle and spurred the bird into action. Noctis quickly followed suit, making sure to put his feet in the stirrups. Even if it weren’t so dark, Prompto would probably mistake the stirrups knocking against Sora’s sides as them being blown wildly in the wind. Noctis couldn’t let the image of empty stirrups directing a chocobo out of his mind, though, and rode behind his friend with an amused smile.

Navigating through the thick bushes that surrounded the slough was hard enough in the daylight. In the dark it was like walking through molasses. They’d run five feet, hit a line of bushes, have to walk around ten or so before finding a gap to sneak through, and repeat.

It felt like hours before they came across the Slough itself. Without so much as a moon to light the way, the water snuck up on them. Prompto startled at the splash of their chocobos’ feet as they popped out of the latest bushes and into the water. He pulled Riku to a stop and Noctis had Sora stop right beside. Despite still being in a bushy area, the flat shore of the lake gave Prompto and Noctis full view of the Slough. Noctis couldn’t see the Catoblepas, but by the loud snuffling and swoosh of forcefully moved water, he knew they were there.

The daemons they were searching for, however, were extremely obvious. Their purple glows came from the right, some hundred meters along the shore. They had yet to notice the lights from the chocobos, so Prompto quietly slipped off the saddle and crept back into the treeline to sneak up on them. Noctis followed.

Unaware of their predators, the daemons continued hopping around in circles, cackling to themselves. One of the imps was in the center, yanking what appeared to be sticks off a branch and holding them above its head before throwing them at the other daemons. As Noctis and Prompto drew close, however, they discovered it was not a stick, but a frog with one remaining limb.

“That’s fucked up.” Prompto murmured as he slipped Lion Heart from his holster.

“Tell me about it,” Noctis felt terrible for the little creature, “all the more reason to stick it to them.”

With a nod Prompto leapt from the bushes, gun blazing. Noctis drew his sword and warped at a goblin that had begun to run away. The daemon fell under one swift stroke of his blade, and Noctis couldn’t help but let out a victorious shout before warp-striking the next enemy. Ignis and Gladio would be equally thrilled to learn he could fight in this ghostly state.

Between the two of them, the daemons were gone in a matter of seconds. Noctis dismissed his sword and turned to Prompto, victorious smile instantly dropping from his face. Prompto stood barely two feet away, staring at a left-behind shimmering blue image of Noctis’ most recent warp-strike. The expression Prompto had was nothing other than heartbreak.

“N-Noct?” Prompto’s voice was so fragile, Noctis wished he could wrap him in a hug and never let go.

“I’m here.” Noctis ended up crossing his arms over his chest, giving himself a comforting squeeze.

Not being perceived by the one he loved most was _torture._

Prompto squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. When he looked again, the apparition was gone. He pulled out his chocobo whistle and blew into it. Splashing announced the arrival of their birds, who had chosen not to try and navigate through the bushes. Noctis hopped up on Sora, expecting to return to Wiz’ outpost. Instead, Prompto wrapped his arms around Riku and buried his face in the bird’s feathers. Barely a second passed before his shoulders were shaking. Helpless, Noctis watched Prompto cry until his friend stood up and mounted his chocobo. In the saddle, he took a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes, and then…

And then he looked directly at Noctis, a smile on his face despite the tears still pooling in his eyes.

“You know, usually you don’t stay this long. Iggy’s almost giving me hope. Such a jerk.”

Prompto then tapped Riku’s sides and raced off. After an admission like that, Noctis wasn’t about to let him get away. He urged Sora after them. Once again, instead of returning to the outpost Prompto headed elsewhere, to the nearby bridge-like rock formations that spanned over the highway. Upon reaching the base Riku refused to climb, so Prompto dismounted and worked his way up the boulders himself. Noctis, as always, was right behind.

It wasn’t until they were centered over the highway that Prompto stopped and sat with his arms propped behind him. He let his legs sprawl, feet floating in free air, and tilted his head up toward the starless sky. Noctis sat cross-legged beside him, focused only on his best friend. A light breeze tousled Prompto’s hair, obscuring the side of his face. Noctis wished he could reach out and re-place it. Instead, he picked at his shoelaces. After a long while it became clear Prompto wasn’t going to say anything. So, Noctis took it upon himself to ask,

“What’s going on, Prom?”

Prompto let out a heavy sigh, “I’m gonna feel so dumb re-hashing all this if you’re just in my head.”

Noctis’ heart leapt. Prompto could hear him. _Prompto could hear him!_

“I promise I’m not.”

“Don’t,” Prompto shook his head, giving Noctis a desperate glance, “don’t give me hope. _Please._ ”

Something about the genuine plea had Noctis decide to keep his mouth shut, no matter how much he wanted to protest.

“After you kicked me off the train,” despicable how easily those words rolled off Prompto’s tongue, as though commenting on the color of grass rather than the biggest regret of Noctis’ life, “Ardyn captured me. That whole week, while you guys were headed to Gralea, he played games with my head. I found out about my past, then the hallucinations started. And they haven’t stopped. Doesn’t matter how far I am from Niflheim or Ardyn. I don’t know how he does it. Unless he can track me somehow through this.” Prompto held up his wrist with the wristband, then removed it.

Noctis leaned into Prompto’s space—noting how just as before, Prompto adjusted for him. Even though it was dark and all Noctis could see were some black lines and vague number shapes, he took his time. Prompto was being vulnerable with him, and Noctis wanted to respect that as much as he could without being able to touch. If he could have, Noctis would have picked up Prompto’s wrist, held it over his own heart and, like the absolute sap he was, repeated that he didn’t care _where_ Prompto was from so long as he was _here_.

Prompto continued his story in a quiet, nostalgic tone while Noctis continued to observe.

“I mostly see you. In the keep, you came by yourself to save me. Over and over. You would pull me from that cross, say you...you…” Prompto’s breath hitched, voice wispy as he said, “loved me.”

Noctis switched his gaze to Prompto’s face. Though he continued to wait to speak, Noctis wanted Prompto to see that was the truth. He _did_ love him, no imitations or tricks could make that false. Prompto, however, continued to look at his wrist.

“But when you took me from the cell MTs would attack, and then it was always you who would torture me and put me right back. I think Ardyn was trying to get me to a point where I would be afraid to escape, so I wouldn’t go with the real you. But you guys came pretty quickly—I wasn’t anywhere near giving up. Like I said, I still had hope.”

“You keep implying you don’t have hope anymore.” Noctis couldn’t help himself—he was worried.

Of the two of them, Prompto had always been the optimist. Noctis wasn’t used to seeing him so down. It made his skin itch with discomfort.

“How can I? You were my _world. Noctis_.” He’d never heard Prompto say his name so reverently, it sent chills down his spine, “Everything I strived for was because of _Noctis_. And now he’s gone, and all I have left is the memory of my best friend, haunting me. ‘Cause I think that’s what’s happening now, at least,” Prompto shook his head a little, “I don’t think it’s Ardyn anymore. I think it’s just me. Imagining you’re here, ‘cause…” Prompto took a ragged breath, “’Cause I don’t want you gone.”

“I’m not—,” Noctis began to argue, officially breaking his silence, but Prompto kept going.

“Everybody’s got somebody, you know? They don’t need me,” Prompto sounded _wrecked_ but decisive, like this wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts, “I’m disposable. Iggy and Gladio…I always get in their way. They’re happy without me. And you always had Luna. You have no idea how much I wished you’d look at me the way you looked at just the _journal_. But I get it,” a small laugh, really a hiccup, “why you were so messed up over her. When the person you love the most dies,” his next words were mangled as his throat tore them apart, “a piece of yourself dies, too.”

Noctis’ brain froze for half a second, before catching up full-speed. Prompto loved him… _most?_

“Prom…” He whispered, wishing with every fiber of his soul Prompto would _believe_ he was there.

“You made it without her. Managed to keep on going. But I…I can’t. I can’t…” his voice broke, and Noctis with it, “I can’t do this anymore,” his fingers trembled as he replaced his wristband, “I want you to come back. You’re gonna be mad but I,” gods, Noctis could never be mad at him, “but I don’t wanna figure out who I am without you.”

Noctis pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them in place of smothering his best friend in his arms. What was Prompto _saying_? Of course he could figure out who he was without Noctis. Prompto had always been his own person, with his own passions and dreams and goals. Just because they’d been such an important part of one another’s lives didn’t mean they were the _only_ thing in each other’s lives. Noctis tried his best to understand where Prompto was coming from. One week without knowing if Prompto was alive had destroyed Noctis’ mental state. He couldn’t image what he’d have been like after a year.

“I’ve come up here a lot, since you… To clear my head. Before it went completely dark, I could still see some stars.” Prompto finally tilted his head back, hair falling away to show shimmering tears as he gazed at the pitch-black sky, “I pretended some of them were you, and Luna, and King Regis watching over us. But now they’re gone, too. Everything is gone. Life is so _lonely_ , Noct. And I know it’s stupid, but sometimes I’m up here and I think…I think of how _easy_ it would be to join you.”

Fear struck Noctis, sharp and aching in his chest. All of a sudden, he _knew_ why Prompto had brought him up here far away from any haven or outpost, _knew_ what Prompto was talking about. Reflex to that fear had him gripping Prompto’s closest arm, his brain catching up only to realize that while he _should_ have phased through, he _definitely_ had his hand latched around Prompto’s arm. Both of them stared at Noctis’ hand for a moment, before staring at each other.

“Memories can’t do that.” Prompto whispered.

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed, because _I told you so_ felt harsh.

Then, because Prompto may as well know, Noctis thought aloud, “I can’t touch anyone else. Not even Specs or Gladio.”

Prompto placed his hand over Noctis’ on his arm. Rather than the disturbing feeling of phasing, the touch felt _normal_. Prompto’s hand was warm, strong, comforting. His eyes widened, then he wrenched his arm free and pulled Noctis into a bone-crushing hug. Noctis returned it eagerly, folding his arms behind Prompto’s back in an x-shape and digging his fingers into the fabric of Prompto’s shirt. Prompto’s own fingers clutched at the bunching of Noctis’ jacket near his hips. They held tight as wet warmth made itself known against Noctis’ neck. Noctis barely held back his own tears, mind racing as fast as his heart as the last few moments replayed. How many times had Prompto come up here and convinced himself not to jump? Was it only luck that Noctis had been here to stop him this time?

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Prompto croaked into Noctis’ shoulder, bringing him back to the present, “just don’t go.”

“Never,” He promised.

Life could throw whatever it wanted at them, but Noctis knew he would try anything and everything to get back to Prompto if they were separated again.


	6. Outpost

The ride back to the outpost went quickly. Prompto threw glances at Noctis every few seconds, as though ensuring he was still there. To save him neck pain, Noctis had encouraged Sora to run beside Riku rather than behind. Neither bird minded the close proximity.

Once the chocobos were safely penned with the rest of their flock, Prompto took one of Noctis’ hands in his own. He held it tight as he reported the successful hunt to Wiz, and as they made their way to the trailer. Behind the closed door he dropped the hand in favor of another hug. Noctis wasn’t going to ask why Prompto was shamelessly seeking comfort, reveling in it himself. His friend gave him an answer anyway.

“I’m afraid you’ll disappear again.” Prompto murmured against the crook of Noctis’ neck.

Chills ran down Noctis’ spine and settled cold, hard, in his stomach. Prompto wasn’t the only one afraid of that. Noctis pulled Prompto closer, tighter, tucking his face against golden locks.

“Me too. You scared me.” He admitted, thinking of Prompto’s confession on the rock bridge.

“Sorry,” Prompto said far too quickly, “sometimes everything just gets to me.”

“Don’t apologize,” Noctis chastised, “like you said, I know how you feel. And not just Luna. That week after the train…” he took a deep breath, before admitted, “I was lost without you, too.”

Prompto stilled in his arms, probably remembering the romantic context in which he’d broached that topic earlier. That was certainly how Noctis was thinking of it. However, he didn’t want to push. Tonight, Prompto needed comfort from his best friend, not trepidation over a fundamental change in their relationship. Or maybe, that’s what _Noctis_ needed.

“I need to eat,” Prompto simultaneously let go of both the conversation and Noctis, “do you want anything?”

After explaining his inability to eat, Noctis sat on the bench between the window and the tiny table while Prompto made himself a quick meal of cup noodles. It was good to see the campers were still stocked with basic necessities. Prompto sat across from Noctis, and for a few quiet minutes they watched steam rise from the paper cup. As he began to eat, Prompto bumped one of his feet against Noctis’ and left it there.

“We gonna play footsie?” Noctis gave a teasing smirk, which grew as Prompto’s cheeks turned pink.

“ _No_. Just…wanna make sure you’re here.” Prompto muttered, glaring at his soup.

“Okay,” Noctis set his right hand palm-up on the table.

Prompto let go of the cup with his left hand and placed it on top of Noctis’, fingers trailing over his wrist. Noctis shuffled until he could intertwine their fingers properly. Prompto’s cheeks became a bit pinker, and he looked up at Noctis with glistening eyes.

“You don’t have t—,” He began to protest.

Noctis squeezed his hand, “I want to.”

After that, Prompto couldn’t seem to look at him until his cup noodles were finished and cleaned up. Noctis tried his best not to stare while Prompto ate, but he wanted to memorize every inch of his best friend’s face. Even though to him it felt like only a week since he’d last seen Prompto, there was no way of knowing if the gods would rip him away again, or for how long.

Once Prompto had tossed his empty cup, he leaned against the kitchen counter and gave Noctis a pensive look. One of the many fantasies Noctis held rose up, in which he would pin Prompto to the counter in one of the many campers they’d stayed, and kiss him breathless. Knowing that Prompto might enjoy it made it so much harder to resist.

“Can you sleep?” Prompto asked, drawing Noctis from his thoughts.

Noctis shook his head.

Prompto snorted, “That’s ironic.”

“Trust me, I’m suffering.” Noctis lamented.

They shared amused smiles. Prompto stifled a yawn, then shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s only like, six, but I’m so tired.” He murmured.

“If you need to rest—,”

“No.” Prompto spoke adamantly, “If I wake up and you’re gone again, I…”

It was a good thing he trailed off, because Noctis didn’t want to know how that train of thought ended. He reached a hand toward Prompto, who stared at it for a long moment before rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He made no move toward Noctis, who tucked his hand back under the table feeling mildly rejected.

“Sorry. I know I’m being a downer.”

“Prom,” Noctis scoffed, “it’s _okay_.”

And it was. They were both hurting, though in different ways. Noctis was willing to accommodate whatever Prompto needed to feel better. Even if that meant telling him he didn’t have to apologize a thousand times over.

Prompto shuffled his feet, looking down at them as he said, “I don’t mean to sound so needy. I understand if you want to get back to Iggy and Gladio. I’m sure you guys have a lot of important stuff to do now that you’re back.”

Not for the first time, and sadly not for the last, Noctis wished he could magic-away Prompto’s insecurities. Besides, Noctis couldn’t think of anything he _could_ do without a true physical form, except help fight daemons. But he’d have to do that with one of his friends or solo, because a group of glaives would freak out if some daemons died seemingly unharmed. As far as he was concerned, Noctis would be far more useful keeping Prompto’s spirits up than doing anything else.

Noctis stood and wrapped Prompto in another hug, arms around his shoulders. Prompto loosely put his arms around Noctis’ waist, showing him he hadn’t overstepped despite Prompto’s earlier withdrawal.

“You wanna talk about needy,” Noctis murmured to the skin just below Prompto’s ear, feeling the shiver his best friend gave as he spoke, “I never want to let you out of my sight again.”

Prompto’s laugh was quiet, shaky, “Not even if I have to pee?”

Noctis pretended to consider, “Well, I _guess_ I’ll have to make exceptions. Otherwise? Royal decree.”

Bringing up an age-old joke got a genuine laugh that time, “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

Prompto began twisting the fabric of Noctis’ jacket in his fingers. His breath shook, but not from laughter anymore.

“Prom?” Noctis urged, needing to know what was wrong.

“Glad you’re home.” Prompto whispered.

“Me too.”

For a while, they simply held one another, silence draping over like a blanket. It seemed to have the same effect on Prompto, who slowly but surely leaned more of his weight into Noctis. When it became an ache on his muscles, Noctis suggested they lay down on the bed instead. Prompto resisted at first, still afraid to fall asleep. It took some coaxing, but finally they laid on top of the covers, all the lights still on to encourage Prompto’s brain to stay alert, Noctis’ jacket folded on the table. Prompto curled against Noctis’ side with one arm thrown over his chest, the other tucked between them. Rather than have his own arm between them be squished, Noctis set it on top of Prompto’s over his own chest and wove their fingers together. He folded his other arm under his head.

“I like your camper better.” He found himself saying once they’d settled.

They were so close that, if Noctis turned his head to look at Prompto instead of the ceiling, it would be irresistibly easy to kiss him. Noctis didn’t turn his head.

“Why? They’re basically the same.”

He swore could feel the heat of Prompto’s gaze. Maybe lying on a bed in such close proximity, knowing how Prompto felt, hadn’t been such a good idea. But Prompto _needed_ the comfort. _Noctis_ needed it. After so many days of not being perceived, Prompto was helping him feel almost normal.

“All the pictures.”

“Hmm.” For once, it seemed like the last thing Prompto wanted to talk about was pictures.

“How did you print them? Were your SD cards in the armiger?” Noctis pushed ahead with a question he’d been wondering the previous day.

“They were, I took them out at the keep as soon as the armiger came back. Didn’t want to risk losing them again. Then, when I came here Cindy let me use her computer and,” his voice took on an amused lilt, “the last of her ink cartridges.”

Noctis huffed a laugh, then said, “That was nice of her. I was worried you’d gone all the way back to Insomnia for them.”

Prompto shook his head, all humor leaving his voice, “No one goes there.”

“Why not?” Noctis asked, though from what Ignis told him he could guess.

“From what Cor’s told me it’s crawling with daemons.” Prompto confirmed, “He thinks it’ll take years before the glaive is strong enough to get inside.”

Noctis had to close his eyes and take a few deep, steadying breaths. Insomnia wasn’t just the land he was born to protect and serve—it was _home_. Knowing that a place which had given him such comfort and joy was not only destroyed but also being ravaged by daemons infuriated him.

“Now that you’re here, maybe it’ll be sooner.” Prompto continued placatingly, seeming to notice Noctis’ flare of anger.

“Maybe.”

Of anyone outside his friends, Cor might be most inclined to believe Noctis was present. And now that he knew he could fight, maybe he’d be able to help after all.

Prompto shivered beside him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just cold. You, uh, don’t exactly have any body heat.”

Proximity momentarily forgotten, Noctis turned his head to gape at his friend, “Seriously?”

Prompto just looked at him, eyes wide and round. Like he had just realized how close they were and was having the same internal battle as Noctis.

“Doesn’t matter,” Prompto mumbled, gaze flicking down to Noctis’ lips.

Alright, that was enough. Noctis sat up and began fussing with the blanket under them, first pushing it out from under himself before pushing at Prompto’s hip to get him to move.

“I’m not letting you sleep cold.” Noctis explained when Prompto refused to budge.

“ _I said_ I’m not sleeping.”

“Prom.” He said with an exasperated sigh.

“Noct.” Prompto mimicked his tone.

An idea popped in Noctis’ mind. He took the portion of the blanket from under himself and flipped it over Prompto. Then, he tackled his friend and rolled him over to face the opposite direction, trapping Prompto in a semi blanket-burrito. Noctis laid on his side and kept one arm slung over Prompto’s waist, tugging him a tiny bit closer.

“No fair!” Prompto whined, though he made no move to extricate himself.

Noctis laughed, “Royal decree says you need to sleep warm.”

“Royal decree can bite my ass.” Prompto grumbled.

“Not tonight. Maybe later.” Noctis teased, then giggled as Prompto flushed and floundered.

When Prompto’s expression settled on fond, Noctis felt something warm and fuzzy alight in his stomach. A significant improvement.

“What?” He found himself asking when Prompto didn’t say anything.

Prompto dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet under the blanket, “I just…there’s something I need to ask in case you disappear again.”

“Anything.”

“Is it true? Or did Ardyn really make it up?”

“Ardyn made up a lot of things. You’re gonna have to be specific.”

“Okay, it’s just, it’s a lot harder now that I know—or think I know—you’re actually here. Like, I couldn’t tell you _before_ because it was so hard and earlier when I said it I still wasn’t sure so…”

Prompto was talking fast and mixing his thoughts, a sign he was nervous. No longer paying attention, Noctis quickly came up with a way Prompto could say what he needed to while being comfortable. It was a trick his dad had taught him when he was little.

“You could close your eyes, pretend you’re saying it to yourself.” He cut Prompto off mid-ramble.

“No!” Prompto said automatically, but then seemed to reconsider his instinctual outburst, “Only if you hold my hand. I know I sound ridiculous but—.”

“You’re not ridiculous.” Noctis reassured him as he wormed his hand previously over Prompto’s waist under the blanket.

He poked Prompto’s stomach and then his ribs before Prompto snagged his hand and frowned.

“Trying to have a serious moment over here, buddy.” Prompto chastised.

Noctis exaggerated clearing his throat and regaining composure as he entwined their fingers “Right, yes. Carry on sir.”

Prompto rolled his eyes, but then closed them and spoke hesitantly.

“Do you love me? The…the same way I love you?”

It took Noctis’ heart a few seconds to restart. Gods, he really _was_ the one less prepared for this conversation. Too many thoughts ran through his mind. Prompto had to _ask?_ As if Noctis hadn’t been embarrassingly, obviously in love with him since high school. Prompto had also been— _was_ also—in love with _him._ With him! Every memory Noctis had of his best friend became layered in rosy affection. All the times Noctis had wanted to reach for Prompto’s hand but didn’t, all the times he’d had held back from kissing Prompto, all the stolen glances…all building blocks. Seconds off the clock, ticking down toward this moment.

A moment which Noctis was spending choking on one, simple word. He had never been much of a talker, but he’d always thought himself capable when necessary—public speeches, council addresses, news interviews, and the like. So why couldn’t he say _this_?

Prompto opened his eyes, searching for an answer in the silence. His expression became desperate, frightened, and then Noctis knew. Words weren’t his style, and they wouldn’t help him. He moved before he lost his nerve. He freed his hand and pulled Prompto closer by the hip until there was _hardly any space between them._

“Noct?” His name came out as a squeak right before he pressed his lips to Prompto’s.

Prompto kissed him back instantly, eyes falling closed with a sigh. Noctis broke away, not expecting a puff of air on his face. Really, he’d had no idea what to expect, not having kissed anyone before. It was…different. Not nearly as romantic-feeling as Gladio had told him it would be, but maybe Gladio had a thing for the taste of cup noodles—which would explain a lot.

For once, it seemed like Prompto was speechless. But his smile told it all—Noctis had done the right thing. His own smile was shy and giddy.

“Sorry.” Noctis apologized for breaking the kiss, but Prompto assumed he meant the kiss itself.

He huffed disbelievingly and said, “Uh-huh. How about you show me just _how_ sorry?”

This time, when Noctis kissed him, Prompto wormed a hand free of the blankets and grabbed Noctis’ shirt. Each gripped the fabric under their hands, pulling closer, wanting to drown in the other. For a while, Noctis forgot everything. Forgot his not-death, Prompto’s torture, the loss of Luna, Insomnia, his father…it all slipped away. Noctis could stay in this gentle bliss forever.

Prompto slowed first, kisses light and soft rather than hard and desperate. Noctis reluctantly followed suit. When they finally separated, heads resting on the same pillow, Noctis could see Prompto was holding back tears. But Prompto kept smiling, a laugh bubbling through his lips. He’d never been very good at being sad.

“I can hardly believe this is real.” He admitted, releasing Noctis’ shirt to wipe at his eyes.

“For the record, me neither. Been wanting to do that for…ever.” Noctis admitted, glancing at Prompto’s lips as though they were magnetic.

Prompto’s expression was a mix of shock and awe, “Really?”

“Really really.” To prove his point, he leaned back in and left a chaste kiss on those lips.

“Gods, Noct. To think, all this time…” Prompto echoed Noctis’ earlier thoughts, sounding equally as regretful.

“We just needed to find the right moment?” Noctis supplied.

Prompto nodded, chuckled, “Guess so.”

Then he yawned, ducking his head so his breath didn’t all get in Noctis’ face. He still got a strong whiff of cup noodles. Which didn’t really matter because his lips tasted like them, too. When Prompto straightened, Noctis rose a pointed eyebrow.

“Don’t you say anything.” Prompto pouted, then untangled himself and turned off all the lights.

Noctis felt completely untethered to reality in the brief minute they weren’t touching. As though any second he would find himself back in the void Bahamut had trapped him in. As soon as Prompto was in reach, Noctis took hold of his arm and pulled him into a hug. Thankfully, Prompto didn’t question him. They settled back onto the bed as they’d been before, but with Prompto’s head tucked under Noctis’. Noctis carded a hand through Prompto’s hair, lulling him to sleep. When his breathing finally evened out, Noctis placed a kiss on his forehead and let his arm rest over Prompto’s shoulders. A single thought ran through his mind as he watched over his best friend,

_If I really do disappear again, at least he’ll have this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that you've read it, I'll admit: I'm not 100% happy with this chapter. I don't hate it, but it just doesn't feel perfect. Ah well. Such is the way of things.   
> In bad news, I don't have any more written yet (life got chaotic and is staying chaotic since I'm moving to a new state within the month o.o). I'm not sure when I'll have time to finish, hopefully it won't be too long!   
> In good news, this fic will now have 9 chapters! I forgot a certain scene that has to happen at the end xD
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> <3 sherlockwolf


	7. Lestallum

At first Prompto was livid that Noctis let him fall asleep. For a full minute he glared and berated. Then, he realized Noctis was _still_ _there_ and practically lost his mind with excitement. After he relieved himself, Prompto immediately climbed back in bed and refused to move for well over an hour. Not that Noctis was complaining.

The only thing that got them moving was Cindy’s arrival. Prompto had been in the middle of a harrowing tale about one of Iris’ first battles when the rumble of the truck’s engine distracted him.

“Cindy’s here.”

“Hmm?” Noctis sat up and pushed aside the curtain over the small window beside the bed.

Cindy hopped out of her truck and made a b-line for the camper. She didn’t get more than a step, however, before Wiz caught her. While they started chatting, Noctis turned and poked Prompto’s side.

“Better get out there.”

“Ugggggggh, do I have to?” Prompto buried his face in a pillow.

“Something tells me Cindy wouldn’t hesitate to drag you out.”

“Mur rifgt.”

Noctis couldn’t help the fond smile on his face—he’d missed this dork so much. And not just the absence of him. It had been a _long_ time since he and Prompto had had opportunity to goof around.

“’Course I’m right.” Noctis poked Prompto’s side again.

Prompto grabbed his hand, but instead of push it away, he used it to drag Noctis back down. And then hold him hostage as he climbed on top of him and straddled his waist under the blankets.

“I’ll get up on one condition.”

“What?” Noctis asked even though he could guess.

Prompto pursed his lips like a fish, “Kiss.”

Noctis made a show of rolling his eyes, but he sat up and gave Prompto what he wanted.

~

Once they were settled in the truck, about to pull out of the Chocobo Post, Prompto had a change of heart.

“Hey, Cindy?”

“What’cha need, sugar?”

“Can we go to Lestallum?”

Neither Cindy nor Noctis commented, but each wore satisfied smiles as the truck headed for the city.

~

“I’ll leave ya to it. Call me once yer done. Oh, and you boys behave yerselves.” With that she caught both off-guard.

For a moment, Noctis wondered if she could see him, but then she winked at Prompto, “Don’t wanna hear about Gladio bustin’ yer butt.”

After promising not to get in any fights, he and Noctis left her in the parking lot beside the cliff. Noctis led the way, Prompto’s hand clutching his. In the lamplit darkness, neither worried that someone would see him clutching empty air. Noctis didn’t mind until they reached Ignis and Gladio’s apartment door. Then, Prompto was squeezing his hand so much it hurt.

“Dude. Gladio’s not gonna attack you.” Noctis paused, hand poised to knock.

“I _know_ , it’s just…been a while. And it’s not like I was nice to them the last time we spoke…” Prompto chewed his lip.

“Yeah, but…they’re family, you know?”

“You’re right.”

A determined nod gives Noctis the go ahead. He knocks, and his fist goes right through the door.

“Shit, forgot about that.”

“I’ll do it.”

It only takes three knocks before the door swings open. Ignis is wearing his usual business casual, hair done up unlike the last time Noctis was here. He was brandishing a kitchen knife in his right hand, prepared to take on any hostile strangers.

“Warm welcome you got there, Iggy.” Prompto greeted.

“Prompto?” The look of shock on Ignis’ face made Noctis laugh.

“You’ll never guess who brought me here.”

“Noctis is with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. Just in time for lunch.”

Ignis waved them in and made them sit at the table while he finished cooking. He and Prompto caught up on Prompto’s hunts and life at hammerhead. Noctis enjoyed his stories just as much as Ignis. Whenever he chimed in, Prompto would repeat what he said for Ignis before answering. It was almost a real conversation.

Gladio arrived just as plates were being served, setting his duffle near the entrance with a loud _thunk_.

“Well well well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Gladio stood in the doorway between the kitchen and hall, hands on his hips.

He didn’t look mad. In fact, the more he stared Prompto down, the more Noctis could see a smile growing on his lips.

Prompto cleared his throat, “Uh, hey.”

“Six months and all I get is ‘hey’? Get your ass over here.” Gladio’s smile finally won over, and he held an arm out for a hug.

That was the first time Prompto let go of Noctis and it didn’t feel like he was taking reality with him.

As lunch progressed, the conversation drifted from Prompto’s escapades to how he’d discovered Noctis was with him. With some heavy paraphrasing. He left out the personal details, sticking to seeing Noctis’ after image, then Noctis giving him a hug. Of which Gladio and Ignis both became _extremely_ jealous.

Afternoon stretched into evening, and Prompto began glancing between his friends and the clock. After the fifth time, Noctis looked, too. Cindy was probably waiting for them. It wouldn’t be fair too keep her too long. But Noctis didn’t want to leave. It had been _years_ since the four of them had simply been able to sit at a table, eat, and share stories. It made Noctis’ heart ache for simpler, far less traumatic times.

They dragged out the goodbye as long as they could. Prompto gave Ignis and Gladio multiple hugs each, some for himself and some for Noctis. They promised to come back within the month. When the door closed behind them, Noctis took Prompto’s hand and let him lead through the first few alleyways. He couldn’t really see, eyes blurred with unshed tears. His friends had been through so much, and for him to bring them together once again…it gave him hope that he and his friends would once again be the family they were always meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter isn't as detailed as it could be -- shit's crazy rn! I'm moving to WA in two weeks! so...it's probably gonna be a month before I upload the last 2 chapters (haven't written them, and i'll release them together, they're both gonna be shorter and have tones like the first chapter and this last little paragraph).   
> Thanks for reading! <3 sherlockwolf


	8. Open World

Ten years passed in relative bliss.

Noctis took up hunting with Prompto, who had a hell of a time convincing the other hunters that he’d discovered a complicated spell that mimicked the image of the long-lost prince, yet could demolish an entire swarm of demons—Noctis’ record was fifty-three—in a matter of seconds. Naturally, the other hunters wanted to learn the spell, too. Noctis got a kick out of having to watch Prompto stumble over nonsense explanations as to why he was the only one who could do it. Eventually he just settled on, “Noctis was _my_ best friend” and left it at that.

Ignis’ kitchen remained a success. The germination of seeds under artificial light kept everyone as best fed as possible. Prompto helped Ignis synthesize his recipes into a book, which they passed on to Vyv for mass production.

One-thousand strong. Gladio couldn’t boast enough. The Kingsglaive was _one-thousand_ strong. People from all walks of life, ready to lay their lives down to reclaim Insomnia. In the name of the King. Who happened to be trapped in a headlock in the middle of an apartment’s tiny kitchen.

“For the record, I still can’t _see_ him.” Ignis piped up from his seat at the table.

All three men in the kitchen shot him exasperated glances, though he couldn’t see those either. Gladio let go of Noctis and shoved him directly into Ignis. Which resulted in another hug. Since they’d woke up that morning, it seemed as though life was only made of hugs.

Noctis was tangible. Real again, not just to Prompto. They hadn’t left the apartment yet to test if anyone besides his friends could perceive him properly, but if they could, Noctis wanted to have some control over his sudden appearance. It would be sure to freak people out. Especially since their King was sprouting scruff.

For now, though, the joy on his friends’ faces was enough.


	9. The Citadel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Putting notes at the beginning so I don't ruin the mood at the end of the chapter ;D
> 
> Final chapter hopefully up this weekend! Thanks for sticking with me! As always let me know if there's any grammar/spelling issues.
> 
> <3 sherlockwolf

Standing on the steps of the Citadel made Noctis nauseas. This place had never truly felt like _home_. There had been plenty of times he’d been reluctant to come here. Yet, never had it represented the _finality_ of his destiny as King. 

With every step forward through the wreckage of Insomnia Noctis had come to realize the truth of that destiny. No matter what his heart wanted, he would not survive this. He was never meant to survive any of it. By a stroke of luck, or perhaps the mercy of the gods, he had been granted the last ten years of life—however unusual those years had been. Ten final years with his friends. Ten years to keep good on a promise. A promise which he himself would have to break.

It took nearly all of his remaining self-control to gather his expression into something composed and look back at his friends. The three men who had carried him through life stood at attention at the bottom of the black-marble stairs, each with a clenched hand over his heart.

Noctis felt as though they were squeezing his own heart. It felt ready to burst.

Destiny could wait another minute.

He nearly ran down the stairs, first throwing himself into Gladio’s arms. Gladio was the best hugger—the feeling of safety was never more real. Maybe that had been his secret all along—people flocked to the Kingsglaive for the oft chance of getting one of his hugs. Noctis couldn’t help but laugh at that silly thought. The sound came out far more like a sob, tears welling in his eyes.

Gladio released him. He was crying, too, hard lines holding his expression to keep him from breaking.

Ignis was next. Always a bit bony, and never the instigator of hugs. Too tense, no matter how many times Noctis touched him. But he never pulled away, never made Noctis feel unwanted or unsupported. Not a day in his life had gone by that Ignis hadn’t given that to him. Noctis had always wished he’d been able to give Ignis something in return, some kind of reward for his dedication. But material reward was never the point, to Ignis. The reward was Noctis himself. His joy brought Ignis joy. In this moment, the best way Noctis could repay his most trusted advisor was to be happy.

And he was. Noctis was oh, _so_ happy. A feeling easily expressed against Prompto’s lips as they wove their arms around each other. The lover’s embrace. Warm, steady, yielding, welcoming. Achingly gentle. Noctis could get lost in Prompto’s hug for days. In fact, he had. His only regret was that those days were in the past, rather than the future.

When they separated—not far, a pair of hands linked between them, matching gold rings glinting in the lamplight—the hurt on Prompto’s face nearly had Noctis throwing in the towel and telling the gods where to stick it.

“Why does this feel like goodbye?” Prompto asked for all of them.

Silence as heavy as concrete fell.

“Because it is,” Ignis was the one to eventually answer, “the Chosen King must make a sacrifice to bring back the light.”

“No.” Prompto whimpered, pulling Noctis back.

This hug was fierce, tight, and possessive. As though Prompto were daring the gods to descend from the heavens and try to take Noctis from him. Prompto pressed his forehead to Noctis’ shoulder, his own shaking as he mourned.

“I’m sorry.” Noctis whispered, again and again as Ignis and Gladio decided to make it a group hug.

“I’ll go with you.” Prompto’s voice was hoarse.

“No, Prom.” Noctis’ body shook with his voice, “ _Live_. All of you. For me.”

They promised.

They let go.

Noctis climbed the steps of the Citadel for the final time.


	10. Haven

Reunion began with the Nurturer. Ignis joined them with a smile on his face and a light behind his eyes Lunafreya had never seen. The few times she’d seen him he’d been masked with worry. Finally, his time to relax had come. There was nothing to worry over anymore, nothing could harm the ones he loved in death.

The Protector was the next to arrive. Noctis found himself in a headlock moments later, surrounded by the laughter of his truest friends.

And finally, the Lover.

Unlike the others, Prompto slipped in quietly. Quite literally, through the backdoor of the sunroom Lunafreya and Noctis were having lunch in. Wide blue eyes found hers, and she couldn’t help but match his beaming, tearful smile. Back to his friend, Noctis glanced up from his meal in alarm.

“Luna, is everything okay?”

“Yes, Noctis. It is.” She said, and pointed.

The joy on Noctis’ face was worth the wait. As was the way he leapt from his feet and swept Prompto with such gusto that the pair ended up a tangle on the floor.

The Oracle had never been happier. Her darling Noctis and his friends made the heavenly castle of Tenebrae feel like home. Voices filled the hallways, games filled the fields, and laughter filled her heart. After lives of duty and suffering, it felt to Lunafreya as though the gods were finally making good on their promises.


End file.
